


Making my way downtown

by The_ruby_finch



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Book 6: Return of the Thief (Queen's Thief), F/M, Gen, RotT Spoilers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28381593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_ruby_finch/pseuds/The_ruby_finch
Summary: Post RotT:Eugenides takes the twins out for lunch to discuss a matter of  importance.
Relationships: Attolia | Irene/Eugenides, Eugenia & Eugenides & Hector (Queen's Thief), Eugenides & Costis Ormentiedes
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Making my way downtown

**Author's Note:**

> Note before you start the fic:  
> Pater:Dad in latin  
> Tata:Daddy in latin
> 
> I've used a few nicknames for the characters.  
> Gitta refers to Eugenia-Someone in the discord server mentioned that baby Hector might have had trouble pronouncing her name and I found that delightful.  
> Hector: Goes by Hec and Tory by his sister,specifically.
> 
> Thanks to silvershadowsea and TheAuthorman for the beta

The sky was a vibrant blue, tranquil and as bright as the robe of Oceanus himself, calm and unconcerned with the pandemonium below. And it was loud: merchants wove around directing passersby to their knickknacks; sellers bargained and wrangled; a chittering crowd had been made for a sanctimonious priest. The carts clamped across the loose pavement. The children beside him whined.

“Tata, we’ve been walking for ages, I’m hungry,” a high-pitched voice grumbled on Eugenides’s right hand side. There was a hasty nod from the right, a palpable “I agree.”

He smiled as he noticed Gitta’s gaze shift towards the rows of dried figs displayed on a counter of a certain market they neared. He pressed his left hand firmly on her lower back. She squirmed in retaliation.

“Where are we eating anyway?” piped Hec, ever the inquirer. ”My legs are gonna fall off if we don’t stop wandering!” He heard Gitta snicker at Hector's comment.

“Then we'd have to ride a horse to go downtown,” Gitta added helpfully.

Gen removed his left hand from his daughter’s back to stroke his beard. “So the first thing you decide, on losing a leg, is that you can only go downtown, from now on, with a horse. What about the men who work so diligently through the night to put bread on their table, with only a wooden stick to function? That is not very pious of you both, don’t you think? They don’t have a horse they can use freely just for leisurely activities. You shouldn’t act so entitled,” or kingly, he would have said if they weren't in public.

“Then, why did you get angry with Ion when he told you that your favourite boots were in repair? You still had some left over for you to use,” Gitta countered. Gen coughed. He knew the twins were mentally high fiving each other.

He composed himself. ”That, my dears, is a necessity.”

“It’s vanity,” Hector disparaged, looking pleased with himself. Gen wondered when he had overheard Kamet proclaiming such a phrase, no doubt referring to Gen himself. Gen would be having a lengthy discussion with Costis come tomorrow. There was no need for Kamet to train them in the art of rebuking their own innocent father. 

“You’ll understand when you are older. A boot maketh a man,” Gen counseled, waving his hands in the air. Hector had grown to be, at his youthful age, quite a minimalist under Pheris’s older brother's perpetual instruction. if Gen didn’t act quickly, his son would be wholly under the rapacious clutches of Dite's agenda, stuck to wearing the same chiton until it wore into dust. He was unsure whether Dite's exile had been the best decision on his part, but the whimsies of his child would probably cease. Hopefully.

“ I can see the inn,” he proclaimed, his pointed finger directed to a wooden sign. The twins clasped to their father’s arms, walking on their toes to see the building over the tall figures in the bustling crowd. As he trekked, Gen lifted his arms so they could dangle and thus peer at his own eye level, which wasn’t extremely high, but it was the thought that counted. The twins were keen readers and snickered at the wooden panel, when they finally reached the inn.

“The Little Quince, what type of name is that?” asked Hector in embarrassment as he was put down.

“To be honest, I never quite understood it myself, but the name sounds awfully familiar, doesn't it?”

Hector shot up. “Pater, I'm nearly six.”. He had gone tomato red, a look only he and Sophos could muster. Gitta snickered harder.

“You clearly said you were five a minute ago, or did I mishear?”

“Pater,” whined Hector, desperately.

Phresine had left a jar of quince jam opened in the nursery two years earlier, coming back to sticky fingers and an extremely overactive baby. Gitta, fortunately, had opted to spend that day keeping Teleus company, and so had missed out on the fun treat. Still, it bought her extreme elation when she or any others in her family called Hector by his new honorary nickname. It was a coincidence that Gen and Irene's most common rendezvous destination outside the palace had the same name.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Hector,'' Gen placed his hand on his heart. “Stop snickering, young lady,” Gen reprimanded the short figure beside him.

“The food and wine here are awfully good, that's all that matters, not the name.” Besides, this inn was secretive enough that he hardly needed to worry about displaying his hook, and high end enough that he needn’t worry about displaying his wealth.

“Let's keep that in mind, why don’t we, hmm,” said Gen, Hector still looking mildly annoyed. Gen expected him to start sticking his tongue out at his so called enemy if she wasn’t able to hold in her coughs.

He winked at Hector. “We’ll have to find a way to prank her when she least expects it.” He could hear Gitta splutter at his side.

“Pater,” she whined. Her father just laughed.

“Gitta, why don’t you find us a table? Hector and I will order.”

She tugged on his sleeve. ”Is this training?”

“Yes, very important training, Gitta. In fact, it was one of the first things my grandfather taught me.”

Gitta jumped in excitement and unclenched her fingers from her father’s cloak to get a better view of the whole establishment.

“Let’s buy something, Hector, why don’t we? I’m famished from that long walk, actually.”

“It better not have quince in it,” Hector commented grumpily.

“No quinces, no quinces,” Gen acquiesced, laughing silently.

They had gotten two paces near the end of the queue when Gen remarked, “Hmm, looks like there's someone meddling with your sister’s training.”

“Wait, where? Costis is here already.”,Hector tried to turn his neck, unable to hide his exuberance. His tummy rumbled.

“Let's get something to eat first, maybe.” This time Gen couldn’t help but let out a choked laugh.

Once they had ordered, with Hector eagerly paying with the loose change from his father’s purse, they walked across to the furthest table at the back corner overlooking the room. Eugenia was already positioned on Costis’s lap where she was passionately going over the rules of a complicated game Pheris had supposedly taught her. Costis was listening with pretend amazement. He already knew how to play the game, which required the simple addition of sixes, something he surely knew at least. Still, Costis had become accustomed to listening to the twins ramble and even knew how to place a meaningful prompt throughout the conversation.

“Costis, you were meant to count to 100 sheep before you were allowed to come and find us, did you remember the rules of the game?” Gen interrupted. The children still had no clue Costis was anything other than their stoic nanny/slightly slow friend. Gen, hating being in front of people all day, had decided on the popular Eddisian Hide the Sheep game, to allow for him to have some free time with his children. Costis, ever the gentleman, agreed, but his wariness was palpable. He definitely had not counted to 100 sheep.

“Tata, I want to count the sheep next time,” Hector said, tugging on Gen’s arm.

“But Costis isn't very good at hiding, Hector: he makes too much noise. You must be nice to your friend. We’d hate for him to be bad at something.” He glanced up at Costis meaningfully, whilst the kids were not paying attention.

“Tata,” Gitta began to wave her hands in her father’s face.

“It's true, I lack finesse,” was Costis’s answer. He shrugged his shoulders at Gen, whilst holding onto the occupant kneeling on him.

“Tata,” she repeated.

“Yes, Gitta?” Gen turned his head to the right where his daughter was fussing.

“Look at what I have!” Gitta said, scavenging inside her pocket. With her small hand closed around whatever she had procured, she motioned her father closer. Gen pushed his chair so that it was tilted towards Costis, rather than facing towards the table, whilst Hector opted to lean his head on the table. Just like a blooming lily, Eugenia opened her hand to show a dried fig. A squashed dried fig, but a dried fig nevertheless. She let out a toothy grin. Costis, curious, mouthed a “do I want to know?” to Gen, to which Gen replied with a shrug of his left shoulder.

“Splendid, my dear. An early snack.” Gen ruffled her hair, to her annoyance. He remembered when he had stolen his first treat at the market. His father had been livid, but had ceased his frowning after the fourth time his mother had surreptitiously kicked his ankle. It hurt to know the real reasons for his father’s displeasure. Still, he was thankful that he had no need to worry that his daughter would have to go through his grim experience. He was proud of her, just like his father had been, and that was enough.

“That really is amazing: I only started to pilfer from open markets at six,” he whispered in her ear. 

Hector, bored by all the excitement from a simple dried fig, went to Costis’s side to roleplay how he had paid at the counter and what the barmaid would bring. Gen waved for Hector to come back to his side, pointing at his satchel for added emphasis.

Gen inserted his hook under the buckle. He had practiced this maneuver many times and was skilled enough that he left only small indelible holes in the leather instead of demolishing it enough that he wouldn’t be able to buckle it again. Once opened, he hid his face inside the bag to rummage in a surreptitious manner, only to get a shove from his impertinent children.

“Fine, fine - okay, stop, madam.” If she wasn’t positioned on the wrong side she would definitely be choking back laughter from a tickle fest at this moment. “Come closer, you two, I’m getting too old and my weak, feeble arms can’t hold this piece of vellum for too long.”

“Is that -” Costis started. Gen held a rough sketch in his hand. It wasn’t the most meticulous drawing. In fact, all it really showed was a neck with curving lines positioned high. The important thing was who it was for.

“I will be commissioning a new necklace for Mama for our anniversary, to go with her favourite purple dress. But before I do so, I will need some guidance from you two to help make this necklace come into fruition.” Hector was nodding aggressively into Gen’s side.

“But lunch first, I think,” he suggested as wooden bowls were placed in the centre of the table. ”Preferably with each of us sitting on our own chair.”

Gitta grumbled as she lunged for her bowl and went for the chair by Costis.

“I really like that, Tata. What type of necklace is that, again?” Hector began. Irene was adamant that their children had satisfactory manners, so, despite the dim lighting, Hector knew to speak only when he had finished chewing. Gitta, on the other hand, was a rascal and often preferred to be annoying on purpose. Most of the blame for this was directed to Eugenides, however.

“That's a collar necklace, Tory,” Gitta told her brother with a sigh. Gen grinned: at least she had remembered his lecture about the different styles and applications of jewelry, and the significance of the correct placement with clothing. He had even strewn Irene's necklaces on her bed one time when she was away to aid in his demonstration, telling them to pick a gown from her extensive wardrobe to accessorise it with. 

“Mama has a red one, remember?”

“Oh Tata, we should get her one in purple,” Gitta continued. “Wait, let me see your sketch.” Gitta thrust her hand towards him, leaning her arm across Costis on the table, being careful not to tip over the stew-laden bowls.

“Hector, come and sit with me,” she demanded. “Wait, Tata, I need a pencil.”

“You two need to eat as well,” said Gen. Gitta grumbled and shoveled a quick spoonful into her mouth, with limited chewing.

“Slowly,” Gen sighed. “I don’t want any choking hazards today, please. Not like last time.”

Gen turned to Costis after Hector had moved to Gitta's side with a pencil of his own. “They're selling semolina cake here with mulled wine, do you want that?” he whispered into Costis’s ear. “Just remember not to get drunk this time.”

“Don't worry, Gen, Kamet isn’t here to drink us under the table,” he said with a wince. None of them had expected that. “Why not? I’m still hungry,” Costis said after some contemplation.

“You Attolians are worse than my cousin Aulus, and he can eat a horse,” Gen said, leaning back to yawn and stretching out his hands behind him. Hector, the actual reincarnation of his father, rolled his eyes at him from across the table. Instead of winking at Hector, like he was initially deeming to do, Gen decided to catch the attention of a wandering barmaid. 

After their new order had been settled and his stew finished, Gen decided to address the hissing on the other side of the table. “You two are complaining quite a bit, aren't you? I have some more paper, if you need it.” Gen laid his head on his left hand.

“Hector doesn’t want to use amfists-”

“Amethysts, Gitta,” Costis corrected.

“Yeah, he wants to use gold. But Mama already has so much gold jewelry, and besides, Mama always wears her gold hair pins and-”

“But that must mean she likes gold, then. How about the one Chloe wears? It’s really pretty.” Hector mentioned.Chloe's necklace had been made from gold plates. Gitta, however, seemed to have a preference for inlaid jewelry or perhaps the necklaces with small pieces of gems held by even smaller rings, which had become popular in court as well. 

“But that's so much gold. She doesn’t need any more,” she sighed.

“Why don’t we get both? I can find a goldsmith to add amethysts. How about that?” Gen countered. The kids contemplated this, oohing and aahing dramatically.”We could even get some dangly amethysts in there,” Gen winked at Gitta.

“F--ine,” she finally remarked. Hector gave Gen a thumbs up.

“Well, that took some time.” Costis was licking the remnants of the semolina cake from his honey-sticky fingers. Gen gave the rest to Gitta and Hector and took a goblet of mulled wine for himself, leaving the last semolina cake in the small basket to wrap and deposit in his satchel. He might treat Irene with this later. During her pregnancy he would often send for one of the attendants to retrieve a semolina cake when he was too busy to do so himself.

”Tell Costis so he can write everything down for you,” said Gen to the twins.

Gen couldn’t wait to give the necklace to Irene in a month's time. Her face, so devoid of emotions in public on most days, would not be able to hide expressions of glee and content after a new present and a tackle hug from the kids. That in itself would be enough to elevate her mood from whatever challenges would plague her on that day. He could see it now. The children would be too excited to keep it a secret,, and as soon as the light began to pierce through the window they would be crawling on their mother’s lap, pushing a gold inlaid box into her hands while she was getting her hair brushed by Iolanthe. After a quick examination, Gen would be allowed to place the necklace on her elegant throat. Gen smiled at the thought as he finished his wine.

It had probably been an hour already, with the trek and the interrupted lunch, and after a quick glance at his watch, which proved he was right, Gen leapt out of his chair to stretch his arms skyward and then started to wrap his cake. 

“We must be heading out now, it seems. I’d hate for you to miss your lessons.” He wiggled his left eyebrow. In truth it didn’t bother him that much: they were still young, and sometimes excursions outside were called for. He reached for the paper and pencils so he could put them away. He could hear Hector asking Costis for a piggyback ride behind him, to which Gitta replied, full of envy, ”My legs hurt as well.”

Gen coughed to get their attention. “Let's not impair poor Costis, please.” Kamet had told Gen about Costis’s fall in the well (which was redundant considering Gen had read Kamet’s account) In fact, he would constantly remind others when need be. Unfortunately, it did not prevent Costis from rebelling with his life repeatedly, as much as Kamet chastised him for it. Still, Gen understood the detriments of chronic illness and he made sure Gitta and Hector knew so as well. It hardly mattered if they weighed as much as a bunch of grapes, Costis just didn’t know when to stop.

“Sorry, Costis,” Gitta apologised, “but you have to help write down everything for Tata, in case he forgets,” she added.

“Of course.” Gen heard a thump, no doubt Costis putting a hand on his heart, an action Costis had begun to do a lot around the children and their assorted confidants. Belatedly, Gen pondered whether he had done so with Thalia back on the farm. 

Hector strode by Gen’s side, skipping along with him. “I can’t wait to show Mama the necklace.” Hector suddenly became silent, then whispered, “Tata? I liked today.”

“Me too,” Gen agreed, wrapping his arm around Hector's lower shoulder.

“We should definitely do this again,” Hector whispered.

I couldn’t agree more, Gen thought as they made their way back uptown.


End file.
